Bartimaeus and the Something of Something
by QueenOfThePolarBears
Summary: The obligatory Hogwarts AU fic for the Bartimaeus fandom. When you mix four students from each of the houses, eight days of detention, and a narcissistic professor with a dark secret hidden up his sleeve what do you get? Chaos. And that's just the beginning. (Cover done by saucydrawing on tumblr)
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Really, it wasn't. To be honest with myself (which I _usually_ tried to be, regardless of how bad the situation might be), none of this had been supposed to happen, _especially_ not like this.

"That thing is uh... it's um..." I heard Nat trail off (normally I'd be congratulating who or whatever managed to make him speechless, since it was a very rare occurrence, but under these circumstances, well, we were all more than a little bit speechless ourselves).

"It's really fucking big." Ah, there was Kitty, as eloquent (and blunt) as ever, even as we all nodded with her assessment in silence, still too stunned to do much but stare at the _thing_ in the middle of the great hall. The other occupants of the room remained frozen in silence as well as we all stared up at the roaring _thing_ and our cackling (Seriously, he was legitimately _cackling_, and it was weird) professor (well, probably ex-professor now, I knew he'd never be a good replacement for old Tchue, temporary or not).

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was just supposed to have been a few days of stupid detention and nothing more. None of this was supposed to have happened.

And yet, here we are. It had all begun back at the beginning of the year, with a completely stupid accident...

**Chapter 1 Book I Arc I**

Seventh year began just like all the six previous ones had. Really, _really_, boringly. The same old stuff year after year. I have no idea how the teachers did it. None at all. (If I had to deal with all of the same stuff for somewhere going on thirty years, without end in sight, I think I'd go crazy.)

After boarding the train, I snagged a compartment after with Queezle, my best friend since I was an annoying little ankle-biter (ask anyone, I really did bite people apparently), we promptly bickered about the summer (she can be such a 'Claw sometimes with how much she misses the library over the summer), fought _had a polite conversation_ with Faquarl and Jabor when they attempted to enter our compartment, and then happily greeted Ptolemy when he managed to escape his overbearing sisters and other assorted not-quite-sane family members of his who also attended Hogwarts (Which was such a dumb name for a school in my opinion. That had been my stance since I could say the word, much to the chagrin of my parents, and that would never change). We spent the ride catching up, playing the occasional card game (With Queezle usually kicking our asses at them. Seriously, that girl could probably make millions from playing poker if she lived in Vegas), and finishing our summer homework (well, okay, with _me_ finishing my summer homework by pestering Ptolemy until he let me read off of his). This was how things had gone since first year, and it would probably repeat itself again next year, before we all went our separate ways after graduation.

The ride lasted too long, as per usual. I snagged a nap (Ptolemy's lap made a surprisingly comfortable pillow, considering how little he was. Honestly, he was barely 5'5"!), argued with Queezle over the benefits of pranking the teachers, and listened to Ptolemy talk about whatever obscure subject he had spent his summer studying (After first year it had been magical creatures, the following year it had been different magical cultures, and so on. This year it had apparently been elemental magics or something like that), as well as his family's annual reunion thingie that they had every summer in Egypt, where most of them were originally from, and many returned to live. (although about half the family was Greek now and had been for a while, even though for some reason they all seemed to have gone to school in Britain for the past four hundred years. Confusing stuff pureblood families were, always made me glad that I wasn't one.), For some reason they both spent the last hour of the ride talking about _hair care_ of all things. _Hair care!_ (Granted, Ptol's hair was a thick, untameable mess, and Queezle's wasn't much better, even though hers was longer. It just got tangled and into everything).

Regardless, I still managed to sleep for about three hours before the train stopped in Hogsmeade. Groaning, I got up, patting Ptolemy on the knee and grinning as he flushed.

"Thanks for being my pillow. You always make a good one." I snickered, before wincing as Queezle flicked the back of my head.

"Flirt later; let's go grab a carriage before we're forced to share one with Faquarl and Jabor again," she said as we got off the train. (Ah yes, everyone had done their best to keep us from being stuck in the same vicinity for long, since the ahem, _incident_ in third year that ended up with the four of us (because Ptolemy is always good about staying out of things, it also helped that he was still a year below us) having detention until Christmas before the feast had even started). Thankfully, we managed to find a carriage without those two in it, even though there were already a few other people in it. Some gangly, scrawny Slytherin kid, with shoulder length black hair who I vaguely recognized from someplace or another, and a shorter (but still taller than Ptolemy), stocky, Gryffindor girl that I was pretty certain was on the quidditch team. I think her name was Jones or something like that. (Little did I know it at the time, but those people in the carriage with me would end up becoming some of the best (and worst) friends I've ever have. But at the time, I had no idea about any of what would happen that year, so I just stared out the window as Ptol struck up a conversation about some ancient runes thing with the Slytherin kid and Queezle and the Gryffindor talked about quidditch.)

The carriage arrived at the school and we all went our separate ways. Queezle and I joined our classmates at the Hufflepuff table, Ptolemy went to the Ravenclaw one, the other two went to their own tables, and that was that. My foot tapped the floor impatiently as I waited for the Headmaster to speak already so we could eat. Queezle stepped on my foot, shooting me a warning glance as I sighed, resting my chin on my hand as I watched the new firsties being sorted. Since when had they all gotten so short? They kept shrinking each year it seemed, and soon enough they'd be so short you wouldn't be able to see them, and my mind is wandering.

The sorting ended soon enough, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (try saying that five times fast after a shot or two of firewhiskey!), Uraziel, stood up, a wide grin on his face that had half the older girls sighing (I didn't see the appeal, the man was probably old enough to be their father, attractive as he may be).

"Welcome to our new students! And welcome back to our old ones! It's so good to see everyone again! Hopefully this year will be as good as the last one! As usual, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that, _Forbidden._" He began (I could've sworn he, and some of the other teachers, shot me a glance when the forest was brought up. That was unfair, it had been _years_ since I had been caught going into the forest. Honestly…) with a warm voice.

"Additionally, Mr. Simpkin has added several more items to the list of banned items that is on his office door, if anyone cares to read over that list, which I believe to have over several hundred things on it, he does not wish to see in the corridors. Now, I hope that you all have a splendid year! Dig in!" And with a flourish of his arms, the peacock sat down as the food appeared. I couldn't resist rolling my eyes at him, even as Queezle jabbed me in the arm with a fork.

"Be nice." She hissed, "You may not like Uraziel, but you do still have to deal with him for the rest of this year. You can go off to live as the hermit you've always wanted to be _after_ you've graduated," she said, as she piled some vegetables (gross) onto my plate. I made a face.

"I don't want to be a _hermit;_ I just want to be left _alone. _There _is_ a difference there, Queezle. And why do you always put gross green things onto my plate," I said, making a disgusted noise as I poked them around with my fork.

"Hermit, being left alone, there really isn't as big a difference between those two as you may think, Bartimaeus. And honestly, stop poking at them and just _eat_ the damn things, they won't kill you. Or do you want Faquarl to _somehow_ find out that you have an eternal hatred for all things green and leafy so that he can use that to get his revenge on you? Hmm?" Damn her. She always knew how to get me to do things. Thankfully we were now in seventh year, and soon enough I'd never ever have to deal with Faquarl or Jabor again, and I could go off and live my life in peace (with, you know, the occasional visit to Ptolemy, have to keep his life interesting, and make sure that he hasn't drowned himself in books, yeah?).

I grumbled, and grudgingly ate the green _things_ on my plate, grumbling under my breath the entire time. Bleh. Vegetables were nasty, and it was pure torture to make me eat them, but at least the desserts were always good. The feast passed quickly though, as it always did, and by the time it was done I just wanted to go back to sleep again (but that was nothing new, Queezle swore up and down that I would hibernate all year round if I could. I always agreed with her on that). The food disappeared from the tables, and I rolled my eyes at the awe on some of the firsties faces. Uraziel stood up again and silence fell through the hall as everyone turned to face him.

"Once more, I wish to welcome our new students, and our old ones. I also would like to remind _everyone_ that magic outside of class is frowned upon. Club signups begin next week, and if extra help is needed in a class, please talk to your teacher. Additionally, I would like to welcome our temporary History of Magic teacher, Professor Lovelace, as Professor Tchue is away on a very important archeological dig for the year, and our newest Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Khaba. That is all. Prefects, please make sure that all first years get settled into their dorms safely." Finished, he swept out of the hall through the teachers' entrance behind their table. Immediately the hall grew noisy with the sounds of prefects shouting at the tiny eleven year olds to follow them, and with the general chaos that was usually associated with the end of the welcoming feast. Queezle and I slipped away from the crowds and made our way to the Hufflepuff dorms on our own.

"So, we've got another new DADA professor. Think that this one'll be any good?" I asked her idly as we took a shortcut down to our dorms.

"No idea. I haven't heard of him though. Ptol might have, you should ask him. What happened to Whatshisface from last year anyways?" She asked, frowning.

"I dunno man, Odalis? Yeah, something about a startled face in a bathroom tile." I shrugged.

"No, no not him…" She said, chewing on her lip and waving a hand about as she tried to remember the name of one of the many DADA teachers we had had over our stint at the school.

"Azul? Apparently he was petrified to stone after a nasty incident. Basilisk was involved. Like I said, nasty…" I rambled on, snickering lightly as Queezle threw me a glare.

"Be nice, but yeah, that's the one. It gets weirder and weirder every year. Philocretes really took the cake though, let me tell you. I doubt that anyone will manage to top that," she said as we reached the entrance to the dorms, hearing the chattering, high pitched voices of the eleven year olds following the Hufflepuff prefects (I was always thankful that I had never been made one of them, although I knew that with my track record it was impossible. And by her association with me, Queezle wasn't one either. I doubted that she cared that much anyways).

"Yeah, you can still hear old Philocretes talking to himself in a pot. We think it's his ghost." I snickered as she rolled her eyes, tapping the barrel to open the door.

"Yeah, not entirely sure about that rumor. Nobody's been willing to investigate, so…" She trailed off as we entered the cozy (I used the term loosely. The room had always been a bit too _yellow_ for my tastes) common room that belonged to us 'Puffs.

"Ah well, we'll just have to wait and see if this Khaba is any good then. Can't be any worse than Tallow was. I'm going to bed though, so I'll see you at breakfast or whatever tomorrow Queezle," I said, stretching my arms above my head before grinning at her as she nodded.

"You have a point there. And try not to be late this year. You're impossible to handle in the mornings if you don't get breakfast," she said before heading off to the girls dorm. I turned the other way and entered the boys dorm, ignoring the few other seventh years in there (_especially_ Jabor) as I flopped down face first onto the bed, quickly falling asleep. I could already tell that this year was going to be an interesting one, whether I wanted it to be, or not.

**A/n: **omg, I still can't believe that I wrote this, but whatever. I'm going to try to keep up weekly updates (so that'll be every Tuesday probs) and yeah. Really hope that you enjoyed it, please leave comments, and constructive criticism uvu  
Also a HUGE thanks to Jonah for being awesome in general, and for being the beta for this story uwu (I'll put up the link to her AO3 profile on my bio))


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Book I Arc I**

Nathaniel John Underwood prided himself on being an example of the perfect Slytherin. He was always immaculately dressed, his hair was always in perfect place, and he always, _always_ prepared for whatever life might throw his way. He was the top of all of his classes (take _that_ Jane Farrar!), and he was the favourite of his head of house, the potions professor Jessica Whitwell. Everything in his world was always ordered and precise, and that was just how he liked it. He gave a quick nod at himself in the mirror to check that his uniform was neatly pressed and hung perfectly from his skinny slender frame, before pulling on his robes and pinning his brand new prefects badge to them. He left the dorm room satisfied, to head up from the dungeons for breakfast. He allowed himself a small smile as he walked through the hallways. He always missed Hogwarts over the break. Sure he was fond of his adoptive mother, and to an extent he respected his adoptive father, but they were nothing compared to Hogwarts, with her library and centuries worth of knowledge hidden away. Hogwarts was his home, his solace, and it had been for four, now five, years.

He nodded stiffly to the other fifth year prefect, Jane Farrar, as he sat down at the house table, moving some food to his plate and pouring himself a cup of tea. He added a large amount of sugar and cream to it, before drinking it slowly, as other students filtered into the hall. The owls flew in and he looked up from his tea, a vague half-smile flitting across his face as he watched his screech owl, Ascobol, fly in and drop a copy of The Daily Prophet into his lap. The owl was fed a few pieces of bacon, before being shooed off so Nathaniel could open up the newspaper and skim it for the twenty minutes he allotted himself for breakfast.

"Underwood. Here's your schedule for the year. I expect you to keep up your previous in class achievements." Ah, there was professor Whitwell, just on time with his schedule. He smiled politely up at her, carefully taking the piece of parchment she handed to him as he nodded.

"Of course professor," was all that he murmured, knowing that she wouldn't listen to anything else he said by this point. A quick glance at his silver pocket watch told him that he was now five minutes ahead of his predicted schedule. That was always a good way to start the school year, and so he stood up, folded his newspaper neatly, and picked up his schedule. He then turned to make his way out of the great hall, so that he could go and pick up his books for his first few classes. He was stopped on his way though by the one person in the school that he currently counted as a friend, fifth-year Hufflepuff Rebecca Piper. Nathaniel couldn't help but grin at her as she smiled at him.

"Good morning Nathaniel. I hope that you had a good summer! I'm sorry I didn't get to see you on the train, I ended up having to comfort a few upset first years," she said, joining him as they left the great hall.

"Don't worry about it; I spent the ride reading through this year's textbooks again anyways. My summer went as usual. How was yours? Which classes do we have together this year?" He let himself fall into the easy small talk he always had with her.

"I don't see why you keep reading them; you have them memorized by the middle of the summer. And mine was fine, we spent a month out in the country with my grandparents. Now let's see..." She took hold of his schedule, reading it over. "We have Arithmancy on Mondays and Wednesdays, Transfiguration on Tuesdays and Fridays, Double Herbology on Thursdays, and Ancient Runes on Tuesdays as well. We've got a pretty good couple of classes together this year for once."

"Well, that's good then," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching a little as he held back a smile. He glanced at his pocket watch again; 8:45 AM. He had fifteen minutes left to get his things for his first two classes, and go to, he thought as he looked back down at his schedule, History of Magic.

"Mmhm. Anyways, you'd better get going, don't want to be late when you get to have Tchue's replacement first thing in the morning. I'll see you for Arithmancy Nathaniel," Piper said, before leaving with a quick wave, presumably heading back down to her own dorm to collect her things. Nathaniel nodded at her as she left, before turning towards the dungeons and efficiently making his way down to the Slytherin dorms.

He grabbed his bag, making sure that he had both his history of magic textbook and his Arithmancy one, knowing that he wouldn't have time to return to the dorm between classes. Another quick glance at his watch showed that there was a mere ten minutes left before class started, and so, off Nathaniel went. He was after all, just as unsure as anyone else about what the replacement History of Magic teacher was going to be like. No one had heard of Simon Lovelace before, whereas Tchue, their usual professor, was an internationally renowned magical archeologist, and went on digs often, which is why he wasn't there this year in the first place.

Nathaniel made it to class with five minutes to spare, snagging his usual seat in the front row, closest to the door so he was able to watch everyone else file in slowly as nine AM drew nearer. At exactly nine, the sound of a clanging bell echoed throughout the school, letting everyone know that the first class of the year had begun. And with that, one professor Simon Lovelace swept into the classroom, elegantly tailored navy blue robes sweeping in behind him, as he shot the students what Nathaniel supposed was meant to be a charming smile. The fifteen year old boy let his eyebrows rise skeptically as he looked over the teacher. Honestly, he didn't see how they would learn anything from a man who seemed to pay as much attention to his hair as many of the Slytherin girls did when they were going to their formal pureblood events. Well, obviously Headmaster Uraziel thought that he would make a good enough teacher, or he wouldn't have hired the man. So Nathaniel settled into his seat, staying silent.

"Good morning class! My name is Simon Lovelace, and I will be your replacement professor for History of Magic until Professor Tchue returns from his dig in Egypt. I look forwards to teaching all of you," he said, still smiling. Nathaniel wondered if his cheeks didn't start to hurt from the amount of smiling he was doing. Also, when did some Gryffindor girl start sitting next to him? He shot the dark haired girl a pair of raised eyebrows, noting the two moles on her face, the density of her hair, and her stocky stature. Yes, this was one of the girls who had been in the carriage to the castle. She was also the Gryffindor chaser, he realized as she shot him her own two raised eyebrows. Thankfully, Lovelace told them all to get out their books just then, so that they could go over what they would be learning, and what would be expected of them on the O.W.L. exams, ,successfully catching the attention of the entire class. As books were shuffled around, parchment was pulled out, and quills were inked to take notes, their professor began to speak.

"Well that was a waste of time," Nathaniel grumbled to himself, hoisting his bag over his shoulder as class ended. The girl he had been sitting next to looked over at him again.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Lovelace is just going to reiterate everything from the textbook and assign essays. This class is basically going to be a joke this year unless Tchue comes back soon," he said, giving her a look that plainly told her what he thought of her intelligence, or lack thereof. He could almost hear her growl at him.

"Well isn't that all that's going to be on the stupid O.W.L.'s anyways?" She said, trotting to keep up with Nathaniel's long stride. He inclined his head, even as he wondered why she was following him.

"Technically, yes, much of what is in the textbook will also be on the exam, but that does not mean that we will actually _learn_ anything from Lovelace. He seems to be the type to just make us read through the textbook on our own, and not actually _teach_ us about the things we are reading about." He said slowly, causing her to nod slowly.

"How you managed to get that from just one class with the man, I'll never know," she said. Nathaniel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why are you talking to me anyways? Aren't you Gryffindor's 'star chaser' or some other such nonsense? Don't you have brainless oafs to chatter at, instead of bothering me?" He asked, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. She scowled.

"Well excuse me for wanting to get to know the idiot that I'm stuck sitting next to in that class for the rest of the year. Or did you not hear the part where Lovelace said that where we sat today was going to be our permanent seat?" she snapped, causing his eye to twitch.

"I heard him, I just don't _care_ about who I'm stuck sitting next to. So if you will _kindly_ leave me alone Ms. Jones - " he was cut off as a dark-skinned Hufflepuff came bounding down the corridor, talking loudly at a small, frizzy haired Ravenclaw about... cursed amulets?

"I'm telling ya Ptol! That amulet you wear is cursed and that's why you can never go on a date with a girl!" the Hufflepuff was exclaiming. Nathaniel's eyebrows rose again, before he smoothly interjected.

"You do know that that is an impossible thing to get cursed for? Besides, why would the…" he glanced down quickly at the amulet the shorter boy was wearing, briefly assessing what culture it was likely from before looking back up. "…Egyptians care about whether anyone goes on a date or not?" he said this, getting a stifled laugh from the Ravenclaw.

The Hufflepuff scowled at him. "Oh butt out kid, what do you know about cursed amulets anyways?" he snapped.

"Obviously more than _you_ if you're dense enough to think that anyone would curse an amulet to prevent someone from going on a date with a girl," Nathaniel replied stiffly. The Gryffindor girl decided now be a good time to step in between the two boys.

"Calm down. No one's amulet is cursed anyway, so it doesn't matter. Alright?" She said this, looking from Hufflepuff to Slytherin, before the Ravenclaw interjected.

"I'm sorry, but I beg to differ; my amulet might indeed be cursed. Miss, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend to test that theory?" he said, grinning impishly up at her, even as the Hufflepuff gaped at him.

"Ptol! You can't just do that! That's not fair!" he whined, causing the Ravenclaw's eyebrows to raise, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Oh can't I Rekhyt? After all, it would prove to you that my amulet is indeed not cursed to keep girls away from me," he said, grinning. The Hufflepuff scowled, and turned to Nathaniel.

"Don't call me that in public. And he's not going out with your girlfriend," he said flatly, causing Nathaniel to start up in shock.

"Wait - what? She's not my girlfriend! I don't even know her _name_," he protested, waving his hands out in front of him.

"Yeah, like I'd _ever_ date this idiot," she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, regardless, Miss...?" The Ravenclaw trailed off, waiting for her name.

"Jones. Kitty Jones," she said shortly.

"Miss Jones, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade?" That 'Claw sure was persistent, Nathaniel noted, crossing his own arms over his chest as the boy turned to him.

"Or perhaps you would like to go with me, to prove to my friend Rek - _Bartimaeus_ here that there is no curse keeping me from having relationships."

"Nonono! You're _not_ taking a random kid to Hogsmeade Ptolemy! Besides, they're both probably only like, twelve and that's just gross," the Hufflepuff said, pouting at the Ravenclaw.

"I am not _twelve_ thank you very much. I happen to be a fifth year. Regardless, _you're_ the one acting like you're twelve. Leave me _out_ of your lover's spat," Nathaniel said scathingly, frowning at the Hufflepuff as he brushed a few black curls away from his face.

"Psh, are you sure about your age, _squirt_, because you certainly don't look fifteen. Have your balls even dropped yet? And it is _not_ a _lover's spat!_" he shot back at Nathaniel, and just like that, wands were drawn. Nathaniel's pointed at Bartimaeus, Ptolemy's pointing at Nathaniel, Kitty's pointing at Ptolemy, and Bartimaeus' pointing at Kitty. This was the scene that Professor Lovelace walked into, as he entered into the hall.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A bunch of upperclassmen, oh, and _women_, fighting in the halls on the very first day?" He said this, even as the four of them hurried to stuff their wands away, trying to lessen how bad the scene had looked.

"Oh no prof, not fighting! Ya see, Ptolemy and I had overheard these two fifth years coming from DADA and talking about the proper way to hold a wand and worry over whether it might come up on their O.W.L.'s, so naturally, being the older students, we felt that we had to help them, both by showing them the proper way to hold their wands, and assuring them that there was only a very slim chance that it would show up on the exam!" Bartimaeus said, all in one breath as he somehow managed to wrap his arms around the other three, grinning cheekily up at the tall professor.

"You, Mister Uruk, are from what I hear, not the most trustworthy of students, and by association, I am obligated to not trust your ah, _friends_ here completely either. And since I assume that I'll get nothing but the same story from the four of you, I shall hand out the punishment that I see fits the crime. Yes, I think it will be four Saturdays of detention for fighting in the hallways, another two for drawing wands on fellow students, and oh, yes, let's see, another two for lying to a professor about it. So that will be eight Saturdays of detention for the four of you. Just be happy that I am not bothering to take house points for such a _trivial_ matter. Now, run along to your classes, before you _do_ get points taken off for being late," Professor Simon Lovelace said, grinning down at them from behind his glasses, blond hair slicked back. Before he turned, his robes swirling behind him as he stalked back to his classroom, leaving four gaping students in his wake.

(**A/n: **So here's chapter two, as told from Nat's POV. Hope y'all enjoyed it, please leave comments or whatever, suggestions are lovely (and will usually make their way into the story somehow). I don't own anything that you can recognize as the work of Jonathan Stroud or J.K. Rowling, and like, half of the ideas in this story come from people on tumblr. Beta'd for me by the wonderful Jojo.))


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 Book I Arc II**

"I can't believe that man!" Kitty Jones raged, as she thumped down into a seat next to her friends at the Gryffindor table. She kicked her bag underneath, as she dumped food onto her plate, barely checking to make sure she was taking only the vegetarian options.

"Which man do you mean this time?" Stanley asked from across the table, snorting. She glared at him.

"Lovelace," She hissed. "It's the first goddamn day back, and I already have detention for the next _eight_ Saturdays thanks to a couple of complete _idiots,_" she said, stabbing angrily into her salad with a fork, as the others around her raised their eyebrows.

"It's the first day back and you already have _how many_ days of detention?" Fred Weaver asked, as he sat next to her. Fred had been one of Kitty's friends since first year. She swallowed her mouthful of salad.

"_Eight!_ All eight of my next Saturdays are gone! And all because _Underwood _can't keep his damn mouth shut, and that _stupid_ Hufflepuff seventh year felt the need to lie to a teacher!" she scowled even harder as her friends all snickered.

"Well what do you expect? Underwood is a teacher's pet, through and through. Correcting everyone is just something he always feels the need to do…wait, which 'Puff are you talking about?" Asmira asked. Asmira was a sixth year Gryffindor, with glinting dark eyes that matched the hijab she wore to cover her hair. A dark-skinned hand reached out to snag a bread roll, as she sat down across the table from the younger girl. Kitty shrugged.

"I don't really know, he was about six foot two something. He had longish dark hair? Kinda curly or wavy? His name though, it was something like Barti…Barti…"

"- Bartimaeus?"

"Yeah, that was it. The Ravenclaw called him something else first though," she said, eating another forkful of salad as she nodded. Asmira sighed and shook her head.

"Yeah, no one but Queezle Ffoukes, and Ptolemy Soter can ever make him tell the truth. I heard Faquarl Nevrakis can too. You know, depending on how hard he's hitting. Or how hard that big guy Jabor's hitting too, I guess," Asmira said blandly, as Kitty gave her a questioning look.

"Seriously? Aren't Hufflepuff's supposed to be trustworthy or something?" she asked, causing the older girl to snicker and shake her head again.

"Something like that, but really, no one's quite sure how Bart got into Hufflepuff. Regardless, never trust him to tell the truth to a teacher, alright Kitty?"

"Yeah, alright, never trust Bartimaeus to tell the truth. Ever. Got it. With luck though, once these detentions are done I won't have to talk to him again," she said, finishing up her lunch, before checking her schedule. She groaned, as she saw that she had double potions next. She really did not want to spend her afternoon in the smelly potions classroom, especially not when that class was with the Slytherins, which meant that she would have to see a certain Nathaniel Underwood. He was the reason why she now had so many detentions, after all. Why did she ever have to talk to him in the first place?

"I'm going to go get my stuff for class now," she announced as she stood up, picking up her bag from the floor as she did. Fred got up as well, flashing her a grin.

"I'll go with you. We've got potions together next, yeah?" She nodded as he fell into step beside her.

"With luck I won't get into Whitwell's NEWT class, so I won't have to take it again," he joked, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, unfortunately I do need to take her NEWT class. I think the fumes from that class are going to kill me one of these days. That is, if Whitwell doesn't poison me herself," Kitty snickered. The potions mistress dislike of all things and all persons was well known. As was her distaste for talented students that were unlucky enough to be in a House other than her own. It was too bad for herself then, Kitty thought; she had a natural affinity for potions, and it showed. She figured that it might have had something to do with how she grew up cooking, but that was beside the point. She was a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin, placing her automatically at the end of Whitwell's disdain. The feeling was mutual though; Kitty didn't think highly of her either. She was grossly unfair, took points from everyone for everything, and handed out detentions like they were candy. It riled Kitty up, but after three years of confrontations in that class, she had come to learn that she needed to keep her mouth shut if she wanted to pass at all.

"She wouldn't poison you; I think that Button would murder _her_ if she killed his favourite student." Kitty shoved Fred as they reached the portrait leading to their common room.

"I am _not_ his favourite; I just actually contribute to his class," she retorted. Yeah, that was it, she thought as she entered the common room, rolling her eyes again as Fred continued to snort. She headed up to the fifth year girls dorm and grabbed her books for potions, leaving the ones for History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures still lying on her bed. She headed back down to the common room quickly, books still in hand.

"To potions then, my lady?" Fred asked, jokingly offering her his arm as she glared at him.

"You're an idiot," was all she replied, before leaving the Gryffindor common room with him, ignoring his remarks as they started to make their way to the first floor potions classroom.

"And yet you keep me around anyways for some reason," He said, as they tried not to get caught on any of the moving staircases.

"Who knows why," She grumbled, before falling silent as they entered the potions classroom, snagging seats in the back. Here at least, they would be less at risk of having their potions meddled with, or drawing professor Whitwell's ire. Slowly the other students began to straggle in from lunch, as only a select few of the Slytherin's even looked forward to having an afternoon of double potions as well. Of course, as she saw him enter, Underwood_ would_ be one of those actually looking forward to this class. He was one of Whitwell's pets after all. Child prodigy and all that crap, along with being from an older family, she thought with a quiet snort of derision. It was all overrated in her opinion. Much better to actually prove that you're capable then to rely solely on talent and your family name, she thought.

"Good afternoon class," Professor Jessica Whitwell said smoothly, as she entered the room from her office. A small amount of murmured "good afternoons" replied back throughout room, causing the bone thin woman to frown. She strode up to the front of the classroom, as the black robes she always wore made her look even paler in comparison.

"This year, is the year you sit your O.W.L's. Those in turn will lead you towards your path in life, and decide which courses you can take, and what you can achieve with your life. Some of you, I expect to see next year in my NEWT level course…others," she paused, cold eyes sweeping the room, "I do not expect to see again after this year." Her tone made Kitty shiver; it always did after the summer holidays. She always forgot just how cold the potions mistress was when she wasn't around her all the time. _Only two more years, _she told herself, holding in a grim smile. _Two more years and I won't have to deal with teachers like her who don't want me around. I'll be out and finally able to make a _real_ difference in the world!_ And with those thoughts swirling around her head, Kitty Jones dug out her parchment and inked her quill to take down whatever notes Professor Whitwell was writing on the board.

"Now, this year we shall be covering poisons, both common and uncommon ones, and their antidotes. Hopefully by now you all know that a bezoar, found in the stomach of a goat, is usually the go to antidote when it is discovered that someone has been poisoned. However, there are some very lethal poisons that render that antidote useless..." Professor Whitwell began to drone on, as Kitty allowed herself to doodle on the parchment she was meant to be taking notes on, wondering who the Gryffindor quidditch captain was this year, and ignoring the looks she could feel were getting thrown back at her by Nathaniel. She resisted the urge to flip him off, knowing that then she _would_ lose house points, because at least one of the Slytherins in the class would report it to Whitwell. And she would probably get even more detentions on top of all that. Instead she nudged Fred with her elbow in order to whisper at him.

"I told you she was planning on poisoning me. How much do you wanna bet that I'll be forced to drink at least one thing in class this year?" She watched as he stuffed his hand into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and grinned, ducking her head as she wrote down a few actual notes on her page.

* * *

One double period class, a roll of parchment, and half a bottle of ink later, Kitty was grateful to be leaving the potions classroom. She wasn't the only one happy to be done with classes as they all filed out, knowing that potions was probably everyone's least favourite class. After all, Whitwell barely had tolerance for certain students within her own House, let alone others. Kitty massaged her sore hand, ignoring Fred as he talked at her while they made their way back to the Gryffindor dorms.

"So, you plan on being the star chaser again this year?" Fred asked her as they waited for a set of staircases to move. She shrugged.

"I plan on being on the team again, yeah. Dunno much about being the 'star chaser.' I think that's a load of BS, but whatever," she said, scowling as he laughed and threw an arm over her shoulders.

"Kitty, you have been the 'star chaser' of the team since you started playing in second year; you're the reason that the Slytherin team has barely won any of their matches against us. Just watch, you're going to be playing professionally by the time that you graduate." She pushed his arm off of her, pursing her lips as she stared at him.

"Fred, I don't _want_ to play professionally. I'm going to either go work at the Ministry, or be a Healer. I haven't decided yet," she said bluntly. He gaped at her.

"But...but Kitty! You're the best chaser that Hogwarts has seen in _years!_ You're even better than Farrar! You _have-_"

"No Fred. I don't care if I'm the best chaser Hogwarts has seen, I play the game because it's fun, and that is that," she said, before pushing past him to enter into the Gryffindor common room.

"And now I'm just going to drop this stuff off, and then I'm going to go to the library. I can't believe that Whitwell assigned us a foot long essay on the first day back," she grumbled, getting a sulky nod from Fred.

"Fine, fine. I'm gonna go find Nick," he said, before wandering off. Kitty let out a sigh, glad for some quiet. Fred was a good friend and all, but in the last few years he had gone from a quiet, shy kid, to one who barely ever shut up. And he also seemed to have gotten it into his head that she was meant to be a quidditch star, when she really didn't even want to play professionally. Quidditch stars didn't make reforms in the magical world, after all. They didn't help to combat the corruption that seemed ever present in politics, or work towards much change at all. But now was not the time to be thinking of such things.

She quickly stuffed some more parchment as well as an extra quill and bottle of ink into her bag, making sure that she still had her potions text and notes from that day with her, before trudging off to the library. She made sure to slip in quietly before making her way over to an empty corner table, avoiding the librarian all the while.

Honorius the librarian was notorious for his dislike of the students, especially when they had the utter _gall_ to enter what he seemed to think was _his_ library. He tended to prowl around the shelves and glare students down whenever he saw them touching a book. And heaven forbid you ever get an overdue notice. Rumour was that he ate students with overdue library books. No one was actually sure how true or not that was, but Kitty never planned to find out, and had always made sure to get her library books back with plenty of time to spare whenever she dared check one out.

She settled down at a half-hidden table in the corner, with her bag placed onto the chair beside. She huffily pushed the short ends of her dark hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face, as she pulled out her book and writing materials. As she opened up her book to the potion she was set to write an essay on, she inked her quill and sat there…and sat there…and sat there…and sat…

She sighed heavily, letting her quill drop into the ink bottle unceremoniously, as her head slowly fell forwards to rest on the table. It was only four in the afternoon, and there were still two hours to go before dinner, and Kitty was already feeling like she was about to call the day just done. She already had an essay to write, and eight days of detention, and school had barely just begun. She was just thankful that she hadn't put her House into the negative points range too.

Turning around in her seat in order to get a better view, she found herself groaning inwardly. Just great, it was the dumb Hufflepuff from earlier named Bart. He was there with the tiny Ravenclaw yet again, though interestingly enough there was a group of other 'Claws with them as well. He was trying to sit calmly (if he did calmly that was) in a chair that was leaned back so much it might as well be a less than comfy bed. He looked as if he was about to fall off it, talking face upwards at a dark haired Slytherin she had never actually seen before. Well, she had seen him before. She just wasn't acquainted with him. There was another Hufflepuff next to him who stood at least a head taller than everyone else. Considering the Slytherin wasn't that much taller from Ptolemy, the difference in height was definitely noticeable. Talk about a mixed crowd. She wondered what that was all about…and wait, was that a squirrel on the table? She squinted a little before deciding that yes, that was indeed a squirrel on the table. A live, perceptibly scared squirrel too. I mean it wasn't her business, but it was definitely weird. The thought of the essay she had to turn in by Thursday morning brought her back, as well as the thought of even more detentions if she didn't finish it on time as well.

She really hoped that this year would turn around for her soon, so it wouldn't be all bad. It would probably be best if she did what she could to avoid those other three for the rest of the year, especially once they got done with all of their detentions. It was only two months after all, and how bad could anything get in two months? Especially since Lovelace seemed to be such a dull teacher, she doubted that the detentions would be anything worse than writing lines. She thought about this as she gave up on her essay for now and packed up her things, figuring that she could maybe go fly around the quidditch pitch for a bit before supper. The weather was still nice enough after all to do so, and maybe it would help get her to think. Either way, she was getting away from those seventh years that were now tossing the squirrel around and arguing loudly, and was that thing now in his _mouth?!_

* * *

A quick stop at her dorm to drop off her bags, a change of uniform, and a pick up of her broom later, and Kitty was off to the quidditch pitch. She grinned when she saw that it was empty of any other people when she arrived, and was quick to mount her Comet 290 before taking off. Maybe it wasn't the best broom on the market, but it was a sturdy and reliable one, and Kitty loved it.

Kitty loved flying too. It was a comfort for her, and had been since her first lesson when she was eleven and had just entered the magical world. She didn't even care too much for quidditch, she just liked to fly. It helped clear her mind, even when she flying upside down, and in and around the goal posts like now. It was only when she heard slow clapping that she stopped, eyes scanning the area below her before she saw the source of the sound. Someone was in the stands. Frowning, Kitty flew over to the person, before sighing to herself when she caught sight of who it was.

"What do you want?" She asked Nathaniel Underwood stiffly, as she hovered down next to him without landing. He shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

"Nothing, I was just walking around and saw someone flying around doing the kind of stupid tricks that could kill a normal person. So obviously, I had to walk over and see who was stupid enough to try. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that it was you but I guess you're good, so…yeah," he ended lamely, leaving Kitty staring down at him suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

"So, what's the other reason you have to come over talking to me? Is there something you want?" she asked, as she continued to stay hovering in the air, keeping eye level contact with him. His eyebrow rose, and his head tilted to the side a little, before he burst into laughter, making her scowl.

"I'm sorry, I really am, it's just-" he began, before laughing again, taking a few minutes before composing himself again.

"I really am sorry, but that was just too funny. However no, I do not want anything from you; I just figured I might as well talk to you some, since we _are_ going to be stuck in detention for eight days together," he said, standing straight again. She blinked, squinting at him.

"Are you drunk?" She said bluntly, causing him to stop and stare at her, before snorting and shaking his head.

"Of course not, I can't drink yet; I'm still underage after all -"

"Hasn't stopped anybody before."

"- and besides, I'm at _school_, so there is no way that I'd get drunk," He finished, before pulling out a silver pocket watch, flicking it open and glancing at it. "Anyways, you might want to go in now if you plan to clean up before dinner. It's five thirty-five. See you around Jones," he said before turning away, hand half-raised as he left.

Kitty shook her head. She didn't know what to do about that boy. He was just so _weird_.

**A/N:** I'm sorry about how long it took to update this. The chapter was being held hostage until I got my homework done. Plus I went to Europe for twelve days. So yeah. Hopefully we'll get to some more regular updates soonish. Who knows tho. Much thanks to everyone who was read this, or left kudos. And even more thanks to the beautiful Jojo for editing it for me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Book I Arc II**

Ptolemy Soter had a headache. He sighed as he sat back in his seat in the library, Bartimaeus at his right, the only non-Ravenclaw in the small group surrounding him. Affa, Penrenutet, Teti, and Methys all shared the same House, and had gathered around him as a nuclear group since first year. He had no idea why. When it came to things like this, the short, dark skinned, frizzy haired boy was completely lost. Regardless, it had become another part of what he loved about Hogwarts. He had friends, interesting classes, and a large library to spend his free hours in. It was so different from when he was at home.

It wasn't that he didn't love his home and his family, because he did. Honestly though, it just got…overwhelming sometimes. With all the people, the noise, the protocol, and the formalities that came with being part of an ancient pureblood family. Not to mention the itchy dress robes. He hated the itchy dress robes with a passion. Hogwarts was definitely a much needed break from having to deal with the summer social scene. And the family reunion. And his cousins. And how much everyone drank. Just thinking about it all made him sigh, causing Bartimaeus to look at him.

"Something wrong Ptol?"

And just like that, the other four looked up from their respective books at him as well. He smiled softly, shaking his head.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just happy to be back here with you guys," he said quietly, picking his Ancient Runes textbook back up to hide the smile on his face, as he watched Bartimaeus roll his eyes.

"You're a real sap sometimes, you know," he snickered. Ptolemy just shook his head continuing to smile, before he immersed himself back into his book once more.

He managed to get another ten minutes of reading before Bartimaeus got visibly bored, leaning back into his chair, making it squeak obnoxiously.

Another five minutes and the Hufflepuff had his wand out, muttering things under his breath so it shot out tiny colourful sparkles.

Two minutes later, Ptolemy looked to his side again to see that Bartimaeus had transfigured his quill into a squirrel. He raised his eyebrows at him.

Thirty seconds later and he was up and out of his chair, leaning over Bartimaeus' lap in an attempt to snatch the wand out of his hand. He could see now that his friend was trying to set the transfigured squirrel on the pair of seventh years that had just walked in, and he had to stop him.

"Don't you dare," he said. His voice stayed quiet as he continued to try and work the wand out of the Hufflepuff's hand. "We are in the _library._ You do not need to be starting fights on the first day. Well, anymore than you already have. You don't need more detentions -"

"Well, well, Bartimaeus! Good to see you. Had a good summer? Heard you already got more than a few detentions…also shouldn't the two of you know by now that you can't fuck around in the library?" And there was Faquarl. Ptolemy sighed, rolling his eyes as he shot Bartimaeus a last warning glance. He got up off of the Hufflepuff's lap, and went back to his own seat.

"We weren't fucking, Faquarl. I was trying to stop him from doing something stupid," Ptolemy replied blandly, before bringing his book back up to the front of his face, effectively cutting off any answer from Faquarl. Not that he had anything against the Slytherin seventh year himself. It was just that when you got him, Jabor, and Bartimaeus in one room together, well…things usually went crazy pretty fast. There had been many memorable incidents between the three of them, after all. Well, mainly just between Bart and Faquarl, as Jabor mostly was there for muscle. Not the least of them being the "Ink Incident" in first year, the "Carriage Accident" of third year, the whole mess with the Black Lake and greenhouse four in fourth year. Last year had featured the two of them locked in a prank war for a month, until the teachers finally got fed up with them. It had become pretty much assumed by the entire student body that Bart and Faquarl were a 'thing,' at least at some point, although as far as Ptolemy knew neither of the two seventh years had done anything to encourage or discourage rumors of such. He had been hoping that the two of them would finally just start avoiding each other after the mess that they had caused at the leaving feast last year; especially since they would both finally be graduating. Unfortunately, it seemed that the two just couldn't avoid annoying each other.

Though he tried to distract himself from them once again with his book, the unmistakable coughing and foot tapping of Honorius caught his attention, once again. Looking up with slight annoyance, he felt his eyebrows rise up in surprise at what he saw before him; somehow in the short timespan he had been looking away, the transfigured squirrel had ended up on Jabor's head, Bartimaeus was being held in a headlock by Faquarl, Faquarl himself had somehow ended up sporting a new bright pink color of hair, and the other Ravenclaws had by now abandoned their books in order to place bets on the fiasco at hand. He couldn't help but wonder how they had managed to end up like this in less than five minutes. Jabor didn't even look terribly bothered by the squirrel on his head; he was feeding it bits from a sandwich he had been hiding in his bag. His attention moved back now to the skeletal librarian who continued to sear them with an affronted look; the man flicked his wand, changing Faquarl's hair back to its natural color, and turning the poor squirrel back into a quill much to Jabor's muted dismay.

"I want all of you damn kids out of my library. _Now!_" Honorius snapped sharply, glaring at the group from across the room. "That includes you!" He continued, turning towards the Ravenclaws and causing Affa to jump in surprise, before they scattered. They made a smart choice, knowing when to run.

Ptolemy sighed and quickly packed up his things, as Bartimaeus sulked back over to him. Faquarl and Jabor had also made a hasty exit with the other Ravenclaws, not wanting to test Honorius as well.

"Sorry about that," the older boy mumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they left the library. Ptolemy shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. What was that even about anyways? Why did you put the squirrel onto Jabor's head?" he asked, looking up at Bartimaeus from the corner of his eye. The taller boy shrugged.

"I was aiming for Faquarl's head actually. My aim was off," he replied, causing Ptolemy to blink.

"And _why_ were you trying to put a squirrel onto Faquarl's face...?" He let the sentence trail off as he looked up at his friend, trying to keep a straight face. Sometimes the things Bart did amazed even him, and that was saying something. Especially considering the things Ptolemy had seen him do over the past six years.

"Well _technically _I was trying to put it into his _mouth_ because he wouldn't shut up. Moving on though, did you see what Khaba was _wearing _today? It was just so... _pink!_ I swear, I nearly went blind in his class today!" Bartimaeus exclaimed, waving his hands around for emphasis. Ptolemy couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head.

"Still, you shouldn't have tried to put a squirrel in his mouth. Remember last time, with the prank war? I'm guessing you also remember all those detentions we already have too. Did I mention the NEWTs this year too? We need to concentrate on important things; or should I say, _you_ need to concentrate things…and seriously? Was it that bad?" he asked, letting his curiosity finally get the better of him now. Because honestly, what kind of teacher would wear _pink_ robes?

Bartimaeus nodded, snickering. "Oh he'll get over it. And hey, what's more detentions to me now? But yeah, it really was that bad Ptol. Seriously the robes were-" He paused, and Ptolemy tilted his head, wondering why the other had stopped talking. That was, before he nearly yelped as he was pulled into an alcove.

"_Shhh, there he is!_" The Hufflepuff whispered in his ear, throwing a hand over his mouth before he could protest. He shivered; now Ptolemy wasn't one to lie to himself, and he certainly wasn't about to start now. However he had been finding it hard to admit for a while now the true nature of his feelings for who he considered to be his best friend. He had been finding it hard for the past three years, in fact. Not that it mattered now or anything, as he saw the almost blindingly bright pink robes of the new DADA professor enter into his vision. All thoughts of such things flew clean from his mind at the sight of _that_.

The robes were quite possibly, the most eye-searingly bright shade of pink he had ever laid eyes upon. Ptolemy felt the need to blink several times before eventually coming to a squint. He heard Bartimaeus snickering quietly against his ear, and he was hard pressed not to do the same. He couldn't see why _anyone_ let alone a teacher would ever wear robes of that colour. Aside from that though, he had to admit that they were cut in the latest fashion style at least…although the matching turban did seem to be just a bit much. As he stayed with his eyes squinted he noticed something else too, and leaning back against Bartimaeus, he whispered to him.

"Is it just me, or does Khaba's shadow seem a little..._off_ to you?" He felt Bartimaeus shift, leaning over the top of his head now to squint at the passing professor, before pulling back into the alcove quickly, tugging Ptolemy further back with him.

"_It looked at me! His fucking shadow turned and _looked_ at me!_" he hissed into his ear, as the frazzled Ptolemy turned to look up at his friend frowning.

"What do you mean it _looked_ at you?" He asked brows furrowing, as he watched him peek around the corner to look at the receding back of the pink robed professor again.

"I _mean_ that his shadow stopped walking, and the head literally turned around and _looked straight at me Ptol!_ I know I've seen a lot of weird shit since starting school here, but that has got to be one of the freakiest things yet," he said, before looking down at the Ravenclaw. Ptolemy watched as Bartimaeus eyes went wide, as it seemed he finally realized how close they were standing. Alright, so it was slightly amusing. Bartimaeus stepped back quickly, only to accidentally bang his back into the wall.

"…Ah. So. Well…sorry about grabbing you like that..." he mumbled wincing, scratching the back of his head in sheepishness. Ptolemy grinned.

"Don't worry about it Rekhyt, it's fine," he said, before they both fell silent. Bartimaeus instinctively grabbed him again as a group of giggling Gryffindor girls walked past. The Ravenclaw felt his cheeks burn as he looked up at his best friend of the past six years. The sound of the girls finally receded away down the hall.

"I, uhm…" Ptolemy found himself stammering.

"Sorry," he mumbled letting go once again.

"I said it's okay."

"…What?"

"It's okay."

"So it's…"

"I'm fine with it."

"Okay, so uhm…"

That was all that Bartimaeus said, before leaning forwards just enough to press his lips against Ptolemy's, cutting off any more words from either of them.

* * *

Ptolemy's face was still red when he sat at the Ravenclaw table for dinner, and the questioning looks he was receiving from Methys weren't helping. Neither were the obnoxious eyebrow wiggles that Bartimaeus kept sending his way all the way over from the Hufflepuff table.

"So, did something finally happen?" asked Affa bluntly, causing Ptolemy to drop his fork.

"I'm sorry, but…what?" he replied, trying to mask the current state of his emotions, and failing terribly. His eyes flickering down so he didn't have to face his snickering friends.

"Damn. Another month and I would've won the pot," Penrenutet muttered, before getting the back of his head smacked by Methys.

"Oh don't whine. We all figured that Queezle would win the pot anyways," she said, before returning her attention to the book on her lap and the food on her table, curiosity sated. Ptolemy meanwhile slowly put his head down on the table, wondering how long this had been going on. He looked up frowning though when someone flicked his head, only to see Affa staring at him pointedly. He sighed.

"Yes Affa, something did happen. I mean, after our first detention anyway, we're going to go to Hogsmeade together, so…yeah," the boy said, before letting his face fall back into his hands once again, as he watched a few flashes of gold pass through the hands of his friends. He really did not want to know what bet that was about now. He'd had an eventful enough first day back as is, and could only hope that the rest of the week would pass by more smoothly. All he had to do was make it through his first (literally, his first) detention unharmed and sane, and he would be fine. The odds of that were looking questionable though…for now, he just wanted to eat dinner and then go straight to bed. So of course, that was what Ptolemy did.

**A/n: **Hey look, I didn't take forever to update! This chapter has actually been ready to post since Thursday but I wanted to get more of chapter seven written before posting it. Again, thanks to the lovely, glowing lampshade that is Jojo for editing this chapter. And nice reviews make me really happy to get okay.


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